Sunday, November 1, 2009

Me growing up – part 4: the first boyfriend - officially gay

My university

Soon after this, I moved to the East of the country, to start university. That was in 2002 and I was 19. Since then, I live away from home. Coincidentally, the curly boy from the gay party lived only 20 minutes away from me. We met up once and I was so happy to see him. He was so cute. I still remember his little jeans jacket and curly head!

We went up to the highest building of the city and I wanted to hug him, but nothing happened yet. The week after, we met again at his place over lunch for just a bit more than an hour. We had lunch and went up to his room, where we hugged each other tightly.

It was a very nice feeling and I had tears running down my cheeks just because of sheer happiness. We were a couple. This was Halloween 2002, exactly 7 years ago.

Actually, we were not allowed to stay together though, because his parents didn't allow him. We tricked his mum (a staunch and stubborn Italian lady) though and on the first night together (new year’s night!) we finally slept with each other.

It was nothing special actually. I don't remember anything of the sex that we had, in all our 1.5 years as a couple. It just wasn't important I think.

We even went to his high school prom together as a couple, and soon, youth from around the region knew us. We became something like a model couple for the gays that knew us, and we took pride in showing everyone that we were a couple.

After he turned 16, things changed for a better, and his family, who always accepted him very well as a gay person (he came out to them by playing them “I am what I am” in the car radio and then telling them that he was gay – SO CLICHÉ!!! But courageous, at 15!) accepted me as his partner too.

Especially me and his mum had a great relationship, and they even took me on holidays to Croatia and to their family home in Parma/Italy once. She told us however that we couldn't make out in front of her dad and we had to sleep in separate beds.

Things took their course and after vicious fighting and bitching, he left me. I was in a lecture and he promised to cook for me, when I was home. When I arrived, no one was there and he didn't take his phone for over a half an hour. Then, he took it and broke up with me.

We are still friends now and get along very well, although there are things about him I don't like so much now. But a bond will always remain somehow. He even asked me if he can stay with me here in BKK (he would be here right now) but I politely declined.

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